If We Were A Movie
by your21
Summary: When Miley get's raped by someone she thought she knew, how will she cope? Will she still be herself or will she become someone else completely? UPDATED! CHAPTER 4 UP.
1. Prologue

**This is NOT part of the Faith Series and is rated Mature for sexual content and violence. **So this fic may seem familiar to some of you. That's because I wrote it before, along with the sequel "Stand", but decided to remove it. It was in major need of re-writing. I let reviewers influence me too much and instead of writing what I wanted, I gave the readers what they wanted. I strayed from the story I imagined, which is never a good thing to do. Anyway, if you've read this before, I'd like to say theres going to be a lot of changes so it's worth a re-read. And if you have read it before, you'll know who "he" is. If not, have fun guessing :)

On a different note, I'd like to say that I've _never_ been raped. So please don't attack me if Miley isn't in perfect character for a rape victim. I've known people who were raped and how they behaved afterward and also what you see and read. I know I'll _never know_ what it's like no matter how much I see or read. _PS. Looking for a beta reader!_

(Hannah's POV, by the way)

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**If We Were A Movie**

_Prologue_

I can feel his breath on my skin. It's sticky and hot and smells like beer. He pressed his lips hard against mine. My lips were closed tight, but they loosen when he tightens the grip on my arm. I've never known such pain; if it weren't for the paralyzing fear, I am sure there would also be pleasure. Jake never kissed me like this. He kept his hands to himself, unless to play with my hair or hold me in an innocent hug. _His_ hands are gripping my arms, breaking veins and giving me bruises. I'm not sure whether to be scared or not. After all, why would _he_ do anything to hurt me? He throws me down onto the bed so forcefully that my body bounces, until he falls on top of me and grabs my wrists once more. He pulls them above his head. I am paralyzed. I am numb. I am lost. I _must_ be dreaming. Things like this don't happen to girls like me. No, this isn't happening.

But it is. He reaches up my shirt and feels around for breasts. Finally, when I open my eyes, I see him. His eyes are dark, wild, and lost. I've never seen him look like this before. It was like looking into the eyes of a stranger. But I _know _him. His long, black hair. His almond eyes. His soul.

I cared about him more than he knew. More than I knew. I was going to tell him today. I was going to confess my love for him. I had planned it all out in front of the mirror. I never thought this was going to happen. I never thought I'd be raped.


	2. Unraveling

Ahh! Finally, and update. So sorry to leave you guys hanging like that. Forgive me? Anyway, thanks to all who reviewed. I really appreciate it. Thank you animallove6991 for beta reading! :)

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**Unraveling**

_**10 hours ago.**_

_My hair is in curls, and I finished doing all my make up. Lilly was standing beside me applying some lip gloss. We were getting ready to go to a party Jackson's friend was having. "How would you feel if I liked Oliver?" I ask._

_She start laughing like a hyena. "You're kidding me, right?"_

"_Maybe. Still, what would you think?"_

"_Well," Lilly's face turns serious, "I'd be a little afraid. I mean, if you two become a thing, that would mean I'd become the third wheel. I'd lose my two best friends. Then, I'd think...you two would make a great couple. Better than you and Jake. And, I guess, I'd find it cool in a weird way."_

"_I like him, Lilly." I said, "I always have. But he was the best 'boy' friend, you know? So I kind of pushed those thoughts and feeling away. Then, when we hugged while I was dressed as Hannah to see if there was any sparkage, well.. All those feelings came back. But he said he felt nothing. I was afraid to say how I felt. So I gave up. I met other boys, specifically, Jake." _

"_And you fell in love with him."_

"_Yeah. I did, but those feelings for Oliver still lingered. Gosh, what should I do, Lilly?"_

"_Tell him." _

_So there I, well rather we, were. Standing in front of the mirror. "Oliver," I say to my reflection, "we need to talk."_

_Lilly now has a weird black wig on and a painted mustache to add a masculine touch. "Yo, Miles. Word. Let's talk!"_

_I rolled my eyes, "So... I guess I'll just come out with it. I like you, Oliver. I like __**like**__ you."_

"_Aw, I knew that. Who can resist Smokin' Oken?"_

"_Uh-um" I cough._

"_Yeah, Miley. I like you too. Lets like go to Rico's and get a soda."_

_**Present**_

He isn't calling me Miley, though. He is calling me Hannah. _Hannah_. He keeps moaning that secret identity of mine. Its making me sick. Finally, my survival instinct kicks in as he reached to undo my pants. "Get off me, Oliver! Stop it! No! I _do not_ want to do this! Let me go" I wiggle to break his grip, but he is stronger. I am weak, scared, and shaking. He is determined, cruel, and wild.

He says it again. _Hannah._

"I'm not Hannah!" I scream at the top of my lungs.

He doesn't care. Somewhere, he sees Hannah. Somewhere, where ever Oliver is, he doesn't see a struggle. He sees me consenting to let him steal away my purity. My body gets weak from protesting, and I give in. I let him rip off my clothes, break my body, and have 'sex' with me.

I felt nothing as he entered my body, except pressure and pain. I screamed out because it hurt. It hurts. He's hurting me. I don't like this _at all_. _Stop. Stop. Please stop. _I whimper, "Why?"

He is breathing harder on me. I can feel his heart pounding. I can feel my stomach churn.

I don't know how much time has passed. I know it wasn't _that_ long, but it feels like hours. He is done moving inside me. His skin is wet. Everything stinks and smells horrible. He pushes himself off of me and puts on his clothes. I lay there naked and exposed. My eyes are burning from crying. My throat hurts from shouting. _Its amazing how much music can drown out. All the cries out for help._ It takes me awhile, but I force myself up.

After Oliver finishes dressing, he looks over at me. All the color in his face fades and his eyes are broken and he starts shaking. _"What did I do? Miley," _he reaches out to me, but I pull back like a scared puppy who has been beaten by its owner.

I'm completely naked. I wrap my arms around me as if to shield myself from him. "D...Don't t...t..touch me." I manage to whisper; my body trembling with fear.

"_I ... I didn't do this."_

There is this very small piece inside of me that wasn't to argue that statement. Even if I choose that piece to listen to, I wouldn't know where to begin. I've had a lot of arguments with Oliver in the past, but none... would even compare to what this argument would be about.

"Just leave." I say.

"_I didn't do this._" he continued to repeat those words.

"LEAVE." I shout.

And still repeating those words, he walks out of the room. When he opens the door, the music grows louder. He didn't even bother to shut the door on his way out. I found a sheet and quickly wrapped my body in it, before anybody passes by in the hall. I run, with the sheet as my clothing, to the door and shut it. Lock it. And slide down against it.

Every inch of my body aches. My heart feels like it's empty and heavy at the same time. I didn't notice it at first, but I am still shaking. My eyes are dry, simply because I'm all out of tears. I feel dirty and wrong; I just want to rip off my skin and escape all of this.

Thoughts I don't want to think about dance inside my mind, calling my attention. Sick thoughts. Thoughts about what had happened. My stomach flips again and this time I can't fight it; I throw up all over this bedroom's floor.

I know I should get up and find help, but I don't know here to go. What to do. This isn't a situation I was ever prepared for. Parents are always teaching you what you should do when something bad happens, but I was never taught what to do if I get raped; especially by my best friend.

Hours pass. I'm not shaking anymore, but the pain and fear is still present. I can hear cars driving away, so I know the party must be coming to an end. It takes every effort in me to get up, find all my clothes, and put them on. It takes even more - more than what I have left in me - to go downstairs and find Lilly and Jackson. I am running on auto-pilot; I have no more thoughts than what I am doing. Nothing. I can't, because if I do, I wont survive.

The music is being turned off, and I see now that a lot of people have left. "Miley..." a voice comes from behind me, and it makes me jump.

"Miley," Lilly says again, and I spin around to see her.

"Hi."

"Hi? Where have you been? Jackson and I have been so worried about you! We thought maybe you left to with Oliver and went home."

_Oliver._ I can feel my hands start to tremble. The empty-weight in my heart gets heavier. I wish I didn't exist. Pessimistic thoughts invade my mind, and I begin to blame myself. I find reasons to justify Oliver. I want to tell Lilly what happened so badly, but what if she hates me? What if she thinks I'm lying? What if everyone else finds out and thinks I'm a slut?

"Miley, are you even listening to me?" Lilly waves her hand in front of my eyes.

"Sorry." I mumble.

"Miley, what's wrong with your hair? And your make up, it's all smeared. Did you go in the pool or something?"

"Sure."

"Miley, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." I want to fake a smile to convince her, but it's too painful. "Let's go find Jackson and go home."

"Uh, okay."

Lilly goes off to search for Jackson, while I go to the restroom. I clean myself up, wiping off all my makeup. I use a miniature brush to straighten out my hair. When I return to the living room of the house, I see Jackson, his friend, and Lilly.

"Well, I'll see you later." Jackson says, then looks over at me. "Come one, we better get home before Dad has a cow."

"Right." I say. "We don't want Dad to have a cow."

I noticed things I never noticed before in my neighbor hood. Flowers, flags, and other lawn decorations. I saw a yellow ribbon tied along somebody's fence post. I've never seen things in such detail, but probably because I was never looking so hard before. Right now, I was trying to find some comfort somewhere. Something familiar. Something that could convince me everything is alright.

There was nothing.

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TO BE CONTINUED...

Review Response: JBhater, I understand what you mean and I respect your opinion. I am a Moliver shipper, yes, which is ironic. Although, just because I am a fan of a certain pairing, doesn't mean I wont read or write something that's completely opposite. Also, I didn't mean to seem like I was blaming the reviwers for the crappiness of my story! I wasn't trying to say that at all. I loved the reviwers. (I tend to phrase things wrong, so please forgive me?) I think I just tried to do too much of what other people wanted. It made the story lose its original plot line. I didn't need reviewers to make my story crappy; I was quite talented at that myself! Hehe.


	3. I Don't Want To Be Me

I'm sorry I haven't posted this. I've had it ready for a long time, but I've been distracted. Anyway, thanks animallove6991, for beta reading.

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When I was a little girl in Tennessee, I used to love to play at my cousin Alice's house. She was eighteen, which I thought meant she was cool. She'd give me any of her old toys I showed an interest in, put make up on me, and push me on the tire swing. One day, Dad went to drop me off at her house for a sleep over. It was going to be really fun. We were going to play hide and seek in the dark. When I knocked on the door, her mother answered; Aunt Blaire.

"I'm sorry, Miley, but Alice isn't feeling well." Aunt Blaire had said.

Dad had been standing beside me with my sleeping bag in his hand. "What's wrong?" Dad had asked her.

In a quite voice Aunt Blaire had said, "She was raped."

I knew what that word meant, but I didn't comprehend the pain attached to it. I didn't understand why I never got to play with Alice after that. Everyone treated Alice with special care after that, as if she was made of glass and ready to break. Anytime I went to Aunt Blaire's, Alice was nowhere to be seen. She was always inside her room, with the door locked. She changed, and I lost my best friend. One day, Alice was gone forever. She moved to Florida and started going to college.

I thought about all sorts of things last night, things I had forgotten all about, like Alice. When I remembered that, I had this urge to call her. I wanted to know what I'm supposed to do, who am I supposed to blame, and where do I go from here. I couldn't though. I can't just call up a cousin I haven't spoken to in years and ask, 'what do you do when you've been...'. I can't even think the word.

I didn't really want to think at all. I wanted to cry myself asleep, and let sweet unconsciousness take away my pain. I was painfully exhausted, but no matter what I did, I couldn't sleep.

At three AM, a new supply of tears arrived. I don't know how tears work...There's a lot of things I don't know. And people I don't know.

My alarm clock is beeping now. I force my body up, which feels like it weights five hundred pounds, and hit 'snooze' on the alarm. I'm still running on auto-pilot, but I don't know if that's enough for me to face school.

I stumble my way out of my bedroom. Everything is confusing, and I seem to be running out of energy. I nearly fall down on the stairs as I reach the second step. When I reach the kitchen, I smell biscuits and gravy. Then I see my dad, stirring the gravy carefully. "Good morning, sleepy head!" He says when he sees me.

I take a seat on the table and mumble a good morning back.

Jackson is already preparing his breakfast plate, piling on biscuits and bacon. When he is finishes, Dad takes the gravy and pours it on Jackson's biscuits. Then, he gets to work on my plate. "How many biscuits do you want, bud?"

"None." I say.

"None? What's wrong? Aren't you hungry?"

"I just don't feel well, that's all."

It's hard to talk and pretend everything is alright, when my heart is screaming for me to confess this secret pain weighing down on me.

"Is it the flu?"

"I'm just tired."

"Alright, that's it. No more parties, for you."

My Dad is looking at me, waiting for me to protest, I am sure. I don't ever want to go to a party again. I don't want to do anything again. I take a deep breath, push these thoughts away and let numbness wash over me.

I hear my Dad say something with 'school' in it, "Dad, can I stay home?"

He sighs, "Just this once. You know your grades are very..."

I drown his voice out, get up, and go back to my room. I try to watch a movie, but it only makes me sick. It's a romance comedy with Drew Barrymore. I don't want to think about romance. No thoughts, not as much pain. I just want to sleep.

I get up and go into my bathroom, open up the medicine cabinet, and search for something that I know makes me sleepy. _Benadryll._ Sweet sleep at last! I take two.

My eyes open and everything is blurry for a second. I push my blankets off and wipe my eyes. I can see the sun shining through my window. I turn my body over and look at the clock, it's 6 AM. I slept all day yesterday? I didn't trust my clock, but when I grabbed my cell phone, I saw the same time.

I go downstairs, where I meet my Dad again. It's like yesterday is repeating itself, except this time he isn't making breakfast. He is eating cereal and Jackson is nowhere to be seen.

"You're awake!" My dad says, "How are you feeling? Any better?"

I shake my head, and walk to the fridge. My stomach is growling at me. I haven't ate anything for a whole day. I grab some orange juice, poor myself a cup, then reach for a bowl and take it to the table. Dad has _Honey Bunches of Oats_ already sitting there. Quietly, I make myself a bowl and start eating.

"You need to go to the doctors, Miley." Dad states suddenly, "You don't look good at all, and you're not acting like yourself."

Dad gets up and leaves his cereal behind. When he comes back he has the thermometer and sticks it in my mouth. A minute or so later it beeps and he takes it out. "Hmm, well it says you're not running a fever, but you just drank something, so maybe that's why."

Before I even have a chance to finish my cereal, my dad is in worried parent mode, and pushing me out the door and into a car. All the while, on his cell phone, making an appointment with the family doctor. I want to tell him he is just wasting his time. But the words wont come out.

I'm sitting in the passenger seat as my dad starts up the car. I look at his eyes and his hair, seeing him in a different light. Not _just_ my father, but a person. A human being. I stare into his eyes as I imagine myself telling him what's really wrong, but my heart races just thinking about it. I feel sick and dizzy, and I think of all the worse possibilities. No, it's better if I don't say anything at all.

"The doctor can't see you until tomorrow, so I'm just going to take you to the emergency room. Okay?"

"I don't want to go to the ER and wait all day, just to get some antibiotics..."

"We need to see what's wrong with you, Miley."

At the emergency room, I feel even more sick. I see a little girl with a broken hand crying. The TV is playing soap operas. I tried to read a magazine, but it was from three years ago. "Dad, I'm starving." I say.

"Oh, I don't know if you can eat anything...sometimes with tests --"

"Dad, I haven't hardly ate anything for over a day now! If I don't eat, I'll get even more sick."

He nods and grabs his wallet.

I take the elevator to the cafeteria, and find some vending machines. There's one that spins with a variety of sandwiches. I get a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, an apple, and a diet coke. I sit there eating my little meal, feeling very out of place in this world.

I've lost a piece of me, and now I don't fit into the puzzle. I don't belong here.

When I come back I am taken to the triage nurse. He asks questions about my symptoms. "I'm just really tired." I say.

My dad takes over the conversation. "She hasn't been herself at all. She slept all day yesterday and didn't eat anything. Her cognitive abilities seem to be off as well."

"Alright, Miley, let's take your tempature."

My temp is 99.8, my blood pressure is apparently perfect, and I weigh 108 lbs. The nurse asked more and more questions. What medication am I on? Do I smoke? Do I drink? When was my last menstural period? Are you sexually active? Are you pregnant?

I clam up on the last two questions and shake my head no. The triage nurse gives me a suspicious look and then asks my father to leave.

"Excuse me? I'm not leaving my daughter!"

"Why does he have to leave?" I ask. I don't want to be alone in this place, with these questions.

"I need to ask you some questions, and we usually request the parent leaves, that way the child doesn't lie."

I knew where this was going and I just shook my head. "I answered your questions honestly."

"Still, I need to ask your father to leave."

"She'll just tell you the same thing." My father said, and exited the room.

"Miley, are you sexually active?"

I'm not...I was just there..."No."

"You do understand what sex is, correct? I mean, oral sex."

"What is this?" I roll my eyes, getting frustrated. This is the last thing I want to talk about.

"Sorry, but there are some kids your age who do not understand, and think they are not sexually active when they are."

I nod my head. "I understand what oral sex is."

The nurse nods and then has my father come back into the room. He looks annoyed. I am too.

When I finally get called back out of the waiting room, I am handed a cup to pee in. "Pregnancy test." the doctor said.

A chill runs down my spine. Pregnancy. What if I'm pregnant? "Why?" I ask.

"It's required. We need to know if you're pregnant."

Hours pass, and I'm nervous. I can't stand to sit on this hospital bed, flipping through the channels on the TV in "my" room. I keep waiting to have a nurse come in and tell me I'm pregnant. And for my dad to hate me. I'm waiting and waiting.

Finally, the doctor comes back. "Well, Miley, I don't know what's wrong with you. You white blood cell count is normal, so you don't have an infection. You don't have a fever. However, your electrolytes are low. If anything, I think you're just dehydrated and famished. Mr. Stewart, maybe get her some Gatorade and take her out to eat one she's released."

"Okay," I can hear relief in my dad's voice.

I'm relieved, but for a whole different reason. I didn't hear the words _you're pregnant._

My cell phone starts buzzing. I pick it up without thinking. "Hello?"

"Miley!" Lily shouts in to the phone, "Where were you? I've been trying to call you all day!"

"Sorry, Lilly. I'm sick. I'm actually at the emergency room right now. I have to go, talk to you later."

My Dad takes me to Denny's after I'm released from the hospital. I start thinking about things again, despite my efforts. A term comes to my mind; rape survivor. What does that mean? I used to think it meant that their rapist didn't murder them. Now, I think it means, to continue living. I don't think what I'm doing now, what I am becoming, is really living.

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TO BE CONT.

One last note: I don't know about where you guys live, but I do know where I live, the doctor's have asked many of times to speak to me alone and if I showed any symptom similar to pregnancy, (actually even when I'm not having those kinds of symptoms, they do it too) they'd ask to speak to me alone. rolls eyes Instead of finding out what's wrong with me, they are more concerned that I know what sex is..


	4. Half A World Away

Hey guys. I'm really, REALLY sorry for not updating. I understand if you hate me, hah. Anyway, I'd like to make a few notes. The chapter below contains the first verses from the Bible, and Miley's attitude towards it does not reflect mine. Also, this will not become a "religous" fic like my Faith Series. Finally, I went through like a billion Emily Dickinson's poems and finally found one I wanted to include in this story. So, yeah, I do not own the Bible nor do I own the poem by Emily. However, I do _own_ the poem at the end of this chapter that is written by Miley in the story. Anyway, this chapter was beta read by animallove6991.

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**Half A World Away**

**One Week Later**

The days passed fast and slow, all at the same time. Each breath, each movement, took everything in me, and I couldn't wait until night to come. I couldn't wait until the day would end, and at times it would seem like a minute was an hour, but before I knew it, the sun had set and the day was over. I told my Dad I was sick, so he let me stay home for the whole week. Most of the time I just laid crying in my room. Once I ran out of energy, I slept. In fact, I slept a lot. It was the only escape form the empty pain.

On Friday, I decided to clean my room. I used to like to clean when I was upset. Organizing and cleaning was a really great way for me to blow off some steam. Of course, right now I have a lot more than steam I need to 'blow off'. Still, I thought maybe it would help a little. I stripped my bed, gathered dirty clothes, and did the laundry. While that was going, I dusted every last corner in my room. I went to organize my nightstand when I stumbled across my old Bible.

It was one of those Precious Moments ones my dad gave me when I was just a little girl. I opened this so-called Holy book, in hopes that just maybe it would have answers. Dad always says when you're feel down, when you're lost and confused, you'll find comfort in this book. _"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form, and void; darkness was on the face of the deep."_ When I read that, it reminded me how I feel right now. Dark; my soul simply a void. That wasn't comforting at all.

I just walk downstairs, and I see Dad reading the paper and Jackson gathering his things for school. He's almost out the door, when he sees me and says in a very loud voice, "Miley's up, Dad."

Dad spins his head around to look at me finishing coming down the stairs. He puts the paper down and looks at my firmly. "You're not dressed for school."

_Thank you, Captain Obvious. _"I'm still not feeling good."

"You have to go back to school, bud. You don't have a fever and the doctors say you're just fine. To be honest, I'm beginning to wonder if you aren't faking this. Is there a reason why you don't want to go to school?"

For a moment I feel very angry. Yes, there is a reason, but I cannot tell him. He would never believe me. If it was anyone else, he would, but Oliver? How could anyone believe that unless they were there? To be honest, if somebody before all this had happened, walked up and told me that Oliver...did that, I wouldn't be able to believe them. So why would anyone believe me?

I stare at my dad for a moment, then I sigh. "No, there isn't any reason. I just don't feel good. I don't know why." The lie tastes bitter in my mouth. I know exactly why.

"If you're serious about this, Miley, then we really need to see the doctors again. There may be something seriously wrong."

Now, I can see the worried look on my father's face and it tears me apart. "I'm fine. It's probably just being dehydrated. That's what the problem was before, right?"

He nods, looking slightly more relieved. "Have you been drinking any Gatorade?"

"No," I shake my head, "at least not a lot."

"I'll cancel Hannah's upcoming gigs, so you can get on top of your health. But you _have_ to go to school. Do you think you can handle that? I'll still make an appointment with the doctor, just in case."

Hesitantly, I agree. It takes _everything_ in me to get dressed and ready for school. Brushing my teeth is like lifting a five thousand pound tooth brush. Somehow, I manage. Dad gives me a ride, so I'm not too late, and even wrote me a note. When I walk inside the school my heart is pounding with fear. Why did I agree to this? I just didn't want to be poked and prodded, to find a nonexistent illness. And it made me sick to see my Dad so scared.

Each face I see, each body that brushes past me...I think it's him. I'm afraid to look up, but every time I do. This fear consumes me. When I reach my locker, I see Lilly standing there alone.

"Miley! You're feeling better?" She looks up at me with her bright, innocent smile.

"A little. Dad forced me to come to school today."

"Oh. Well, at least you're feeling better. I haven't heard a word from you in forever."

"It hasn't been that long." I say my voice slightly bitter.

"Well, it felt like it. I've been so lonely this past week, what with both you and Oliver being home sick. Seriously, this is an epidemic like the bird flu! Amber and Ashley have been home sick too, which I guess is kind of a good thing."

"Oliver hasn't gone to school?"

"Nope." She shrugs, "I'm kind of worried, cause he wont even talk to me."

I try to absorb this new information, find a place to put it. I honestly don't know how it makes me feel. Of course, I'm relieved I don't have to worry about seeing him. It will make things easier. I'm also confused -- why isn't he coming to school? For me? Or himself? Is he afraid to see me? Does he think I've told? Is he hiding out?

"Miley!" Lilly is waving her hand in front of my face. "Earth to Miley Stewart!"

"Sorry," I shake my head, open my locker, and grab my books. "I guess I'm still a little spacey."

"I'll say! You're awfully quiet. Is something wrong?"

"No," I shake my head and force what I'm sure is a pathetic excuse for a smile.

"Let's get to class, before the bell rings."

My day at school passes much like my days at home. Slow and fast. Nerve wrecking, and painful. Finally, it is time for Mr. Corelli's class. He beings to lecture us on various things about plays, art, and poetry. We have to read Emily Dickinson's 'Are Friends Delight or Pain?' and explain what it means. We also have to write a poem of our own, about the saddest moment in our life.

"It will all be anonymous." Mr. Corelli assureds, "Only I will know who wrote what, and although select ones will be read aloud, I will not name those who wrote them. Unless you wish me to, that is."

At last! I was free from school. Lilly decided to walk home with me, though, which made this a little tiring. She has a giddy smile on her face, "Sooooo. Did you tell Oliver how you feel about him?"

That name. My heart stops and this pain ceases me. I don't take another step, because I feel as if I am going to die from this pain. I try to think about the question Lilly asked, did I tell him how I felt? For a moment, I thought she meant about what he did to me, although she doesn't know any of that. I realize what she meant now. I had every intention on telling Oliver that I cared for him. "No." I say, minutes later.

"Did something happen?" Lilly asks, confused by my odd behavior, I'm sure.

"No, nothing at all. Let's go home." I say.

Lilly follows me into the house, which seems to please my father.

"Have a good day at school, girls?" He asks with an unusual amount of curiosity.

"Yeah, Dad. Lilly and I are going to go upstairs and do our homework." Of course, I would really like to be alone right now, but I don't say that.

"Alright. Would you like some snacks?"

Before I have a chance to decline, Lilly answers for me. "Yes, Mr. Stewart!"

"I'll make some popcorn, and bring up some cookies in a little bit."

"Thanks."

Once upstairs, I throw my book bag on my bed and start searching for my Algebra book. Lilly just flops onto my bed and yawns. "I'm so tired," she says, "I could sleep forever."

"Oh." I nod, as I gather my books and throw them onto the floor. I sit down and begin finding the problems I had to answer.

"Wow. You're all business right now. I guess you got kind of behind this week, huh?"

"Yep."

I don't talk much while Lilly is here, and eventually her mom calls asking her to come home for dinner. I won't lie, I'm happy about it. When she's gone there's this huge relief. I can show my pain and my tears without fear. I have finished most of my homework now, except the assignment Mr. Corelli gave us. I open up the book of poetry, and find the poem he assigned us to read.

_Are friends delight or pain?_

_Could bounty but remain?_

_Riches were good_

_But if they only stay_

_Bolder to fly away_

_Riches are sad._

I have no idea what this poem meant, and I can't even begin to decipher its meaning. I'm stuck on the first line; are friends delight or pain? Not too long ago was it that I considered Oliver to be my friend. Is he delight or pain? He was delightful, I guess...now, he is so painful. It kills me. I throw the book back on my bed, and decide to write my poem about my most sad moment.

I knew this without a doubt. And before I could argue myself out of it, the words came to paper. It is much like writing a song.

_Blinded by something I cannot see_

_Your soul disappeared for a moment, so to speak_

_Foreign emotions; your hands all over me._

_I tried to fight, but I was much too weak. _

_I try to find a way to justify this pain_

_Perhaps it was all my fault, leading you this way. _

_So here I am, drowning in the rain_

_I am trapped inside that day. _

_You destroyed my body, soul, and mind_

_I simply cannot get a peaceful sleep at night._

_Oh, how I wish I could just hit rewind_

_To the days where everything was perfect and right_

_You would never have done such a thing_

_Never have taken my innocence away from me._

_Never would you have left me with such a broken song to sing_

_Never, never. But I couldn't see._

_This desperate obsession that you've had. _

_Stalking me, when you didn't know the other side._

_I can smell you breath and see you face_

_It makes me sick, hands all over, you invading me._

_I do not like that place. _

_But perhaps, perhaps, it was my fault, you see_

_This other side, this double me, this silly lie._

_At night I think of all these things, call myself such terrible names_

_Whore and slut, to say the least. Oh, but why_

_Do I play these games?_

_When deep in my heart, I know what you did isn't right_

_When deep in my heart, there's an endless fight._


	5. I Rather Be Alone

**Sorry it's taken forever for an update. My health has been kinda crazy among other things so fan fiction was the last thing on my mind. Anyway, I'll try to update regularly again! Beta read by animallove6991**

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**I Rather Be Alone**

"Oh, my God! Guess what?"

These are the words I wake up to this morning. Dad apparently told Lilly its okay to barge into my room on a Saturday morning and wake me up at 8 AM. Seriously, this is my only escape from life…why can't I even have that?

Underneath my covers, I try to pretend I'm still asleep, but then Lilly starts shaking me. _Why me? _"What is it?" I snap.

"Geez. I just thought you'd like to know there's this _huge_ shoe sale going on at the mall."

"And?"

"And, I thought you'd want to come with me. If we get there early enough, there should be a lot of cool shoes in our sizes."

"I don't feel like it, sorry."

That was the wrong thing to say.

"_You,_ Miley Stewart, who has a closet full of Hannah shoes…who adores shoes, doesn't want to go to a _shoe sale?_ What's wrong with you?"

I don't know why, but that made me laugh. Not a happy kind of laugh, but more like a nut-case one. What is wrong with me? What is freaking wrong with _me?_ I was so angry and tired that I almost told her to go ask Oliver what's wrong with me. But I didn't. I can barely if think about what he did, let alone talk about it. So, I held my tongue and thought of something better to say. "I stayed up all night catching up on my homework. I really could care less about shoes, I'm _that_ tired."

"Oh, do you want me to leave, then?"

It's the sad tone of Lilly's voice that makes my heart ache and I almost agree to go shopping with her. Almost. "If you want to. I'm really not going to be any fun this morning, if I can even manage to stay awake."

"Okay, then…I guess I'll just see if my mom wants to go to the sale with me. See you later."

After Lilly leaves, Jackson comes in. Without knocking. "What do you want?" I growl, "Can't you see I'm trying to sleep here?"

"Chill, Miles. Dad just wanted me to check on you."

"Whatever. Tell him I'm fine."

"He wanted to know if you wanted some breakfast? Lilly's downstairs having some before she leaves…she said you're not going with her?"

"I'm not hungry. I had a really big dinner last night, and I'm just too tired to go to some stupid shoe sale."

"Are you sure you're okay, Miley?"

I swear to God, if I hear somebody ask me about my well-being one more time this morning I am going to go absolutely crazy. Maybe that's what it is that makes some people crazy. Maybe that's why Lizzy Bordan took that ax to her parents, because they wouldn't stop asking her how she's feeling. Or not.

I'm seriously not about to whack Jackson's head off or anything, but I'm pretty sure I could have a complete breakdown and start shouting like someone in major need of anger management. Why can't everyone just leave me alone? It's hard enough without them _caring._

I know it's stupid and it doesn't make sense, but I feel almost as if I don't deserve their concern. I feel like if they knew what happened, they wouldn't care about me this much. I'm afraid that they'll blame me for what happened, as if it's my fault. And maybe it is. Sometimes, I think it is. I can only imagine what the guys at my school would think if they knew…they'd probably think I'm a slut.

I spend the rest of the day locked in my room, ignoring the best I can anytime my Dad or brother come barging into my room. I sleep most of the time I'm in here, but some of it I spend playing video games or doing homework. I try to drown our the reality of my life, but it doesn't really work. Each time I get so wrapped up in Final Fantasy or Algebra problems, it's like that voice inside my head is saying, _this isn't real Miley. All that's real is the cold, hard truth that you've been raped…by your best friend no less. _

And about the tenth time I hear that voice, that's when I can't take it no more. I slam down the video game controller and tell that voice, "Shut the hell up!". But I can't stop there, I have to do something to make this pain go away. Before I even realize what I'm doing I'm picking up a letter opener sitting on my desk and pressing the sharp point to my arm. I flinch at the pain, but I can't stop. I pull the razor-sharp edge across my skin until I see blood. I'm usually pretty squirmish when it comes to blood, but right now it's like a wave of peach has washed over me. All there is, is the stinging pain on my arm and the blood. Nothing else matters, because for that brief moment, everything else is gone.

And it feels good.

Just then, there's a knock on the door and reality comes crashing back to me. Before I have a chance to respond to the knock I can see the knob on my door start to turn. I realize I can't let anybody see me this way, especially my Dad. I doubt he'd buy the wound on my arm as an accident. Quickly, I grab a thick, long sleeved sweater and throw it on. That's when my Dad walks in.

"We're going out for dinner."

"Where?" I ask.

"Panda Express. Did you want to come? Or do you want anything?"

"No thanks. I'm not really in the mood for Chinese. I think I'll have some left over lasagna."

"You sure, bud?"

I take a deep breath, "Yes. I am very sure. Thanks, though."

By the end of this month, I'll be so experienced at lying I could do it for a living. Maybe I should forget about being a pop star, I'd make a great lawyer.


	6. Breathe No More

**Breathe No More**

My life is spiraling out of control, but there is a solution for that. Or so I've discovered. I am in my bathroom, standing in front of the mirror naked. My body is a frightening sight, but it is well worth it. After Oliver did to me… what he did… well, I lost all the power I had in my life. Before that happened, I was on top of the world. Heck, I'm Hannah-freaking-Montana. My name is in lights, my stage name at least. People adore me…and some even worshiped me. I was used to feeling in control. I can't relieve the depression or make the pain go away, but I can gain control. That night with the letter opener, wasn't the first time. It's been a week since I first cut myself and ever since, I've been cutting. And I still haven't been eating. All of which, provides me control over my life.

Still, the fact remains. The pain is still here…but I am growing numb. Oliver hasn't showed his face at school yet, and I wonder if he ever will. He doesn't return anybody's calls, according to Lily. It's almost like he doesn't exist; like he was just a bad nightmare.

Looking in the mirror I see a girl who weighs about 96 pounds, and scars. Deep scars are on my skin. It's a horrific sight to say the least. I keep it well hidden though. I even have myself excused from P.E. saying I'm still sick. I know I got to let these scars heal before Lily sees them, but I can't help but do it again. It's like an addiction of sorts. Normally, I wouldn't do something like this. Normally… Well, normal just doesn't exist for me anymore. Somebody stole that gift away from me.

I get myself dressed and head on my way to school. When I arrive at school, Lily is there to meet me. She has a happy smile on her face but a cautious look in her eyes. "You've lost a lot of weight". I can tell by her tone this is not a compliment. Girls are always being warned about eating disorders, but honestly that's not my problem. I'm just not hungry! I can't eat, it makes me sick.

"Jealous, are we?" I smile, but Lily isn't taking the bait.

"You're making yourself sick, Miley. You're even trying to hide how thin you are by wearing all these sweaters all the time. We're in California not Alaska."

"Whatever. It's cold out. And I'll have you know it's fashionable."

"And why do you get all weird when I mention Oliver? Yeah, like that!"

"I don't know what you're talking about." I try my best to compose myself.

"I know something happened. Did Oliver…"

"What?" I say, almost pleadingly.

"Did he deny you?"

Anger burned in my veins. "Deny me?" I choked, "Why would you say that?"

"He's gone still. Not answering. Things must be awkward. Oh, Miles, you can tell me all about it."

"Actually, I can't. You wouldn't understand." I snap. "You don't even know me anymore, Lily."

She looks taken aback, "You're right…I don't know who you are anymore."

And with that I storm off. The act is over, and finally giving Lily a piece of my mind leaves me with a sense of power…and a sense of guilt. I try to ignore the latter, but it is so very hard. I just chewed out my best friend when all she was doing was trying to help me. Before I can stop myself, I go running after Lily.

The amazing thing about best friends is you don't have to say anything. You just hug each other and all is mostly forgiven. "I'm so sorry"

"When you're ready… we can talk about it." Lily says, but there's so much disappointment in her voice.

As I go through the day, I think hard about telling Lily, but I realize I cannot. I want to make things better between us so I invite her to sleepover for the night. She reluctantly agrees, and says she hopes I'll clue her in about what happened. I can't, though.

I'm taking a shower , while Lily paints her nails. I turn off the water and step out, drying my body off. I remove my towel and look in the mirror at my scars.

"Oh, my God…"


	7. Innocent

**Innocent**

"Oh, my God…" Lily's voice came crashing into my ears and soul. My first feeling was fear. Like a child being caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. I am caught. I am really busted. I don't know whether to be relieved or not. In the movies, this would be a good thing. Best friend finds out you're suffering terribly and everything comes out of the closet. But in real life? I see a mixture of sadness and anger on Lily's face. It's the last one that is bugging me now. Why is she mad? She has no right to be mad! How dare she be mad at me?

"Miley, what the _hell_ have you done to yourself?" Lily raised her voice.

Three things were wrong with this situation. First of all, Lily does not – and I mean never – cuss. Secondly, the way she was looking at me was like a mother would look at her child if she found out she was pregnant at fifteen. And finally, her voice. Its so full of authority. I am both proud of her and pissed off.

"Look, Lily… I can explain. But don't start yelling at me like you can even begin to comprehend."

"Oh, I can. You are so broken up over Oliver…that you find yourself unworthy and you're, oh, my God…you're…it's disgusting. I can't believe you."

"How dare you?" I am crying now. "Lily, can't you see…Oliver didn't reject me. He _raped_ me."

There is a long, pregnant silence between us. Minutes pass, and I keep my head down, crying into my chest. Lily must just be staring at me…unbelievingly. Finally, she whispers, "I can't believe it."

"Then don't" I snap, lifting my head up to face my so-called best friend.

"You mean, you and Oliver had… sex?" She asked, her voice is very quiet.

"No." I say firmly, gaining confidence in myself. I had finally said it out loud and I was not going to be told this was my fault. Not by her…of all people. Not Lily. "He raped me. It's a far cry from sex."

"Why would Oliver do something like that?"

"He….he…thought I was Hannah." I whisper quietly.

Lily stayed quiet for a few more minutes. "Was he drunk?" She asks.

"Should it matter?" I am furious now. "I don't know. I blocked so much of that night out, but I don't think so. Maybe." I try to remember what his breath smelled like, but I can't right now. I can see his body on mine, but its distant, covered in blackness.

"Why didn't you tell me the night of the party?"

"I couldn't. And Lily, nobody can know about this. It would ruin me…and Oliver."

"If Oliver really did this to you, Miley," she looks at all my scars, and I realize I am still naked. I guess when a conversation like this takes place, everything else becomes irrelevant. I grab my towel and wrap it around me. Lily suddenly looks embarrassed. "What I mean is, who cares what happens to him? People need to know. Your dad has been so worried about you. If he knew…he could…."

"Kill Oliver?" I sighed, "He either kills him or he doesn't believe me. I know my dad, trust me."

"Miley, what about you?"

"What about me? Well, let's see. Everyone will think I'm a lying slut…like you probably do."

"It's hard, Miley. I feel like you wouldn't lie about this, but I also don't think Oliver would knowingly rape you. Something had to of been wrong. He had to of been on something. Maybe drugs."

Still…it's no excuse. I want to tell her that, but why? She is going to defend Oliver if she can. He's her friend…like he was mine.

"And for record," Lily says quietly, "I don't think you are a slut. If he really raped you… you're still innocent."

I wish I could believe her.


End file.
